


we belong

by andsocanshe



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-22 21:42:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23267515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andsocanshe/pseuds/andsocanshe
Summary: "But in truth, it isn't all that important. Not in the first few months of their relationship, not later. Not ever."Five times that Donna and Harvey unintentionally ran into an ex and one time that they didn't.
Relationships: Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	we belong

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of this spiraled from what I like to call “Lost In Thought, Staring At a Wall Scenarios” (also "Bedtime Thoughts That Keep Me Up An Extra Hour") so I’ve been meaning to make something of that for months — what better time than quarantine? Plus, a few people have mentioned that I should write a Paula encounter, so here we have that and some.
> 
> Thank you to my amazing betas/ego boosters Heather (kalingswifts) and Sam (swancharmings). What would I do without either of you?

_one._

For what it’s worth, the thought _has_ crossed both of their minds — that both Donna and Harvey had been in other relationships during the duration of whatever it was that they were to each other before the blurring lines completely snapped, and that _that_ had the potential to lead to some awkward encounters if, by chance, they happened to run into any of their exes. But in truth, it isn’t all that important. Not in the first few months of their relationship, not later. Not ever. Those relationships are a part of them, sure, but a lot less important than the here and now. A lot less important than who they are to each other. Who they have always been to each other. At some point, some of their ex-partners probably figured out that they finally got their act together anyway — Thomas, of course, and likely Scottie thanks to similar circles — but whether or not the rest had seems to be a moot point.

;

The first time that Donna runs into him after the night she left him standing in the doorway of a hotel room, she wears a ring. She wears a ring on her left hand and she’s married to a man who will never question her faithfulness, nor her his. She’s married to a man that she _chose_ over this one years before she allowed herself to understand why; a man that caused her to spiral and ache but has given her more love and happiness than she could ever imagine.

“Donna?” a familiar voice calls just as she’s walking out of her morning pilates class — likely the last she’ll take before the move to Seattle. 

She adjusts the mat on her shoulder and turns on a heel, coming face to face with none other than Mark Meadows _._

He gives her a once over — typical — and Donna can’t help that she notices the second that Mark catches the wedding band on her finger. He’s taken aback by it and she almost wants to laugh. Almost.

She doesn’t resent Mark necessarily because she isn’t a very resentful person but Donna knows now that he took advantage of how low she had been back then, what feels like a lifetime ago. More than that, it tells her that he never really knew _her_ (let alone respected her) _,_ save maybe the fact that he was aware that Harvey meant something more than even she understood, but to think so little of her? To want her to be the other woman? It’s unfathomable and hard to believe that he is the same man that she dated for six months all those years ago. Then again, people change. She has.

“Mark, hi,” she replies, noticing his own left hand — sans ring.

“Hey, hi. How are you?” Mark gestures toward her, “It’s been awhile.”

It’s awkward. Donna knows that this is awkward — not just because she’s standing in front of an ex-boyfriend after her workout, but considering the terms in which she last saw him.

“I’m good. Really good. How are you?”

“Uh, the same,” he shrugs and uses the moment to look pointedly toward her ring, “You’re engaged?”

Following his eye-line, she looks down at her hand and caresses the ring with her thumb. The weight is still new but she likes it. She _loves_ it.

“Married,” chuckling, Donna glances back up to Mark but her eyes catch a figure jogging toward both of them. 

Harvey, clad in gray sweats and a hoodie, pulls the headphones from his ears and takes the last few strides to her side.

“I thought we were meeting at the coffee cart?” she asks, smirking at her husband — her ex momentarily forgotten. Harvey’s hand falls on her waist as he catches his breath. 

“Thought I’d surprise you after class but it looks like I just barely missed you.”

He grins that grin that she thinks she fell in love with the first night — boyish and devious and now so in love with her and Donna rolls her eyes, placing a hand on his chest. It’s only a moment before the ex-turned-current third wheel interrupts them.

Mark laughs, “I guess I should have seen that coming.”

Harvey turns to look at him and it’s obvious that though he recognizes the other man, he can’t quite place _who_ he is or why he knows anything about their relationship. Why would he, though?

“Harvey, this is—“

“Mark. Mark Meadows,” Mark interrupts with an outstretched hand. 

“Mark, nice to meet you,” he bluffs and accepts the handshake.

“Donna and I—“

“I know.”

Things were awkward before, but they’re even worse now. Harvey isn’t the insecure, jealous type with her or their relationship, but he’s protective of Donna the way that she is protective of _him_. 

So in this moment, standing face-to-face with the ex-boyfriend that at one point wanted a little more than what she was willing to give, he isn’t jealous that she might still have feelings for the man. She doesn’t, Harvey knows that. He’s protective of her integrity and the fact that the infamous Mark Meadows tried to manipulate it.

“How long have you two,” Mark clears his throat, “Uh, been married?”

“Two and a half weeks,” Donna replies easily. Her eyes don’t leave her husband’s face as she watches a hint of blush creep up on his cheeks and a sheepish smirk play at his lips. 

“Wow. Well, congratulations. I should probably let both of you get back to your morning. I have a meeting that I have to get to.” It’s a lie and Donna knows it but she doesn’t care. She watches Mark turn in the opposite direction and walk down the street, taking whatever chance he ever thought that he might have with her with him. It doesn’t matter; Donna is _exactly_ where she belongs.

“You okay?” Harvey asks then. His hand slides down her arm, palm touching hers before lacing their fingers together. The feel of his own ring against her skin has a calming effect. It’s one of those ever present reminders that he — _Harvey Specter_ — is hers for the rest of their lives.

“I’m fine. Better now that you’re here. Are you?”

“I’m always good with you,” he flirts.

“That’s good to hear but you know that it isn’t what I meant.”

Harvey stops in the middle of the sidewalk, looking down at their hands held tightly together before his eyes meet hers again. They’re swimming with everything that he spent years denying, but also every promise that Donna knows he will keep. “You know I would never do what he did to you.”

“I know, Harvey.”

“And I won’t cheat on you. Not ever.”

Donna nods, using her free hand to touch his jaw, “I know that, too, Harvey. I have always known that about you.”

“That’s what I love about you, you get me,” he quips with a line that he uses on her _often_.

Normally she would laugh or call him an idiot, maybe reply back with the question that he loves to hear ( _love about me?_ ), but now she just looks at him — this man, her husband, who loves her more than she ever thought possible, and Donna makes a promise to him, too, “I would never do that to you either.”

“I know.”

—

_two._

Seattle is the last place that they expect to run into anyone they know from New York, save Mike, Rachel, or visiting friends and family. So when an ex that was never much more than a casual date arrives at the Zane Ross legal clinic on a tour with high school aged students, both Harvey and Donna are a bit surprised.

Harvey walks into Rachel’s office with a file in hand, not noticing the group before him. Six teenage girls sit in fold out chairs around the room, two adults standing off to the side, as Mike and Rachel explain the official process behind the term “pro-bono”. To his shock, each of the kids seems thoroughly intrigued.

“Harvey Specter?” someone whispers from off to the side — one of the adults.

He searches for the sound of his name, meeting the gaze of a former colleague. “Zoe?” he replies, just loud enough not to disrupt the group, “What are you doing here?”

“My niece, Olivia’s, school trip. We’re touring various American law firms and Zane Ross happens to come highly recommended among legal clinics.” she answers, directing Harvey’s gaze to Olivia. She was, at most seven or eight years old the last time that he saw her. “The bigger question is what are _you_ doing here? New York City’s best closer in the Pacific North West?”

“Needed a change,” Harvey shrugs, absentmindedly twisting the ring on his left ring finger the same way that Donna had the night she put it there. It’s been a staple for a few months now, the feel of it against his skin — something to ground him when she isn’t nearby.

“And you’re married, too?” Zoe asks in surprise.

“I am,” he nods with a smile, adding, “I’m sure that you remember Donna Paulsen.”

At this, Zoe doesn't look surprised but he suspects that maybe, like everyone else, she shouldn't be. Donna had always been different and Harvey knows that, but over the last year, he’s grown increasingly aware of the fact that others had put two-and-two together as well — acknowledging that she meant more to him than anything else, more than himself, long before he was willing to admit it. His weakness, his strength. She’s all of it.

;

“You’ll never guess who I ran into today.”

“Zoe Lawford? She told me congratulations.”

It isn’t until he and Donna are on the couch in their living room later that evening — a glass of water for her thanks to newly discovered _current events_ , and one for him in solidarity that she insists he doesn’t _need_ to take part in — that Harvey tells her about his run in with Zoe.

“She wasn’t surprised that you and I are married,” he says in disbelief.

“Are you?” Donna jokes.

“No.”

She lets out a soft laugh, pulling lightly on the collar of his t-shirt before letting it snap back, “Honestly, it shouldn’t be that shocking that she wasn’t surprised, even if she didn’t know either of us as well as our friends do.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because,” Donna glances up at him, “She was there when Louis put me on the stand during the Coastal Motors mock trial. You know, when he asked me if I loved you but I couldn’t say _yes_ and you jumped up and told him to stop. You really made it look like there was something there that day.”

Pressing his lips to her temple, Harvey smiles, “Because there was.”

“There was,” she agrees. 

—

_three._

He’s the relationship that happened when her own with Harvey was at its most broken, vulnerable point. When he told her that he loved her and ran, when she told him the same and left. When she wanted something more but didn’t know _what_ that meant for her or for them.

He’s the relationship that she couldn’t _see_ past a specific point, not that she saw any relationship beyond that specific point. Not until Harvey, but Harvey was _always_ a part of her future in one way or another.

Mitchell. He asked her to move in with him and Donna very clearly remembers the crisis in her mind — the feeling that it wasn’t _right_. She couldn’t picture what life would be like waking up with him or going to bed with him every day. She couldn’t see their careers meshing well long term, his ring on her finger or hers on his, or what their kids would look like. She never saw that with Mark or Thomas or anyone other than _Harvey_ , really, but Mitchell was the first to make her realize that.

Harvey’s hand rests low on the swell of her bump, catching thumps and kicks from their still very active, seven weeks away baby to be and in public or not, Donna cannot wipe the smile off of her face or erase the softness in her eyes. Everything has been making her feel this way lately ( _damn_ _hormones_ ) but watching her husband become an amazing father months before their child has even arrived? Now _that_ is an entirely different level of heartwrenching.

She’s leaning back into his chest as the warm spring sunlight settles around them, eyes on his hand when they should be out in the field. Harvey’s nephew, Marcus’ youngest, made it into the little league finals so they’re on the east coast on a random weekend, knowing that it’ll be their last chance to travel cross country for a while. 

“Come on, Specter!” Haley calls toward her little brother as he steps onto second base and Donna can’t help but wonder what it will be like if she and Harvey have two children. Their first isn’t even here yet so it’s a little early for those thoughts but she can see it; _two_ , and hopes that they would be supportive of each other the way that Marcus’ children are.

She’s still lost in thought when Donna hears her name. “Donna? Donna Paulsen?”

Searching for the speaker, her eyes land on Mitchell’s mother’s first, then Mitchell himself.

“Mitchell? Mrs. Johnson — hi, what are you doing in Boston?”

“I’ve been out here for awhile,” Mitchell explains. “My sister lives here, and the company transferred me to Everett when my wife and I got married last year. But I’m _here_ because my nephew plays for the Bears.”

“Mine, too,” Donna laughs as she repositions herself in Harvey’s embrace, “By marriage. This is my husband, Harvey.”

Harvey’s hand leaves their baby as he reaches over to shake the other man’s, and Donna can’t help the wave of something… hormones, an epiphany? That washes over her as the two men begin to chat about baseball; from their nephews to the Yankees to whether or not she and Harvey’s child will play little league. 

It feels surreal. This moment in time reminds her of all the years before and all the other partners that she’s had, yet _this_ — this future — was so unattainable with each of them. It has _always_ been Harvey and any time that she may have felt guilty that she couldn’t give that piece of herself to anyone else seems to dissipate. There was a reason that the only foresight that ever felt or seemed tangible was with him, there was a reason that _of course_ she would marry him, and that she could picture their baby or babies so perfectly in her mind.

It was always going to be them, it was always _supposed_ to be them. It just took a little more time to get there.

—

_four._

He has a baby boy in a tiny bear hat and a winter coat held securely in his arms, a pacifier tucked in the baby’s mouth as chubby fingers hold the clip anchoring it to his onesie. The line in the cafe seems long, though maybe Harvey isn’t used to the hustle of New York City anymore — especially during the holidays, or maybe it’s because he’s never had a six month old doing the time with him.

The baby looks around the room, big brown eyes catching everything; taking it all in with that curious, larger than life sense about him. 

“What do you see, little man?” Harvey wonders, drawing the infant’s attention to him. There’s a whole world out there and he isn’t too sure that their son likes what he sees. “We’ll be home in a couple of days,” he chuckles, “There's a little less chaos there, huh?”

The pacifier drops from his mouth and he grins at his father, gurgling in somewhat of a response as Harvey continues to speak to him.

“You know what’s cool about New York, though?” He asks as the infant begins to tug at his hat, “Mommy and Daddy met here. Not too far from this coffee shop, actually. And we worked at the DA’s office together, then at the firm together because your Aunt Jessica _knew_ that I wasn’t going anywhere without her—“

The little bear hat falls to the ground then, revealing tufts of blonde hair on the baby’s head. He looks at Harvey with a stunned expression.

“Alright, buddy. I thought we agreed to stop pulling that thing off. I know that we Specter men have inherited hair that should never be hidden away but it’s cold and Mommy insists that you need to keep this on.”

A voice from behind him peaks up, holding the hat out to Harvey. “Wouldn’t want you to get in trouble.”

He throws a look over his shoulder, making eye contact with the woman behind him. Blonde, petite, familiar ( _u_ _nfortunately_ ). 

“P—“

“There’s my handsome man,” a second voice coos from the opposite direction and Harvey turns toward the door, watching Donna walk toward him. Like everything else, her timing is impeccable. Reaching for the baby, she smiles and catches the instinctive, playful pout on her husband’s lips. “ _Men_ ,” she laughs, correcting herself.

Their son goes to her easily, always eager to be with his mother and Donna caresses his cheek before one finger moves up to sweep his light hair to the side. Harvey can’t help that he melts a little as he watches the baby that they made curl into Donna. 

If he wasn’t all that sentimental before, he is now that they’re married and have a child together.

“Did he pull the hat off again?” she asks because of course, she knows her son better than anyone as well.

“Here,” the blonde woman steps forward, passing it to Donna. _Paula._ “He’s quite adorable.”

“Thank you,” Donna replies a little uncomfortably, taking the hat before redirecting her attention to their child. Harvey notices the slight protectiveness that overcomes her — the way that her grip tightens on the baby in a way that only he would notice, but he adores this side of her, too — the side that loves what’s hers and theirs so fiercely.

“How old is he?”

Harvey traces the infant’s fist with one finger, “Just about six months.”

“Mmm. I’d heard that the two of you were together,” Paula states, awkwardly eyeing both of them. Neither of their attention is entirely on her, too focused on the babbling baby between them but Harvey does notice the woman searching for rings. “But I had no idea that you had a child. Are you still at the firm?”

Donna shakes her head, “Not anymore. We work at a legal clinic with Mike Ross.”

“Oh, wow. So you’re still a COO?”

“I am,” she shifts the baby slightly higher in her arms, “We left the firm before this one happened but it’s been a nice change of pace and our schedules aren’t as hectic. It felt right, especially for our first year of marriage.”

“And it’s great for life with a baby, too,” Harvey agrees with a slight chuckle. Their son responds to his father’s laugh, his baby talk silencing as big brown eyes — Harvey’s eyes — look up to him.

“I’m sure.”

The silence is almost palpable for just a second too long, growing increasingly awkward but Harvey doesn’t seem to care. He’s aware now that his relationship with Paula was… a _mistake_ , and a mask to hide behind instead of facing his very real feelings for Donna. More therapy helped him understand that, but even more than that — it was _Donna_ , his feelings for her consuming him until the moment that the dam finally broke and he allowed himself to feel them. He let go of everything holding him back; his fear, insecurities, and whatever he could of the damage from a broken childhood and allowed himself to _be_ in love with her the way that he had always been. Harvey allowed himself to believe that he could and _would_ make this work — that they could have everything and it wouldn’t be the catalyst that broke them as well.

Standing in a cafe in a city that they used to call home with Donna and the little boy that they made that looks _a lot_ like him and loves her as much as he does, he feels full. Complete. Harvey belongs with her, to her, and to this family. He wouldn’t change a thing.

After a few minutes, Paula takes her cue to leave, abandoning her afternoon coffee run clearly in favor of escaping something that she was never meant to be a part of. 

“I’m sorry about that,” Harvey apologizes, taking the baby from Donna so that she can grab their drinks from the cashier.

Handing one of the coffees with a splash of vanilla over, she looks at him puzzled, “About what?”

“A lot, actually,” he shrugs, “Everything that I put you through back then, how much of an idiot I was.”

“Harvey—“

“No, I mean it. I know that we’ve had this conversation before but I was such a jackass. The way that I treated you after you kissed me… _Donna_ , I kissed you back. And then letting myself believe that there was even a choice? God, I was…”

“Harvey, who are you holding?”

He follows her pointed gaze to their child in his arms — completely content with a pacifier in his mouth, head resting on his father’s shoulder with a hand holding onto the collar of Harvey’s shirt beneath his jacket.

“You made a pretty good choice, I think,” she tells him sincerely.

“It was never really a choice because it has always been you, but,” Harvey looks from the baby to her, “I would still choose you a hundred thousand times.”

“Only a hundred thousand?”

He grins, “ _Every_ time.”

—

_five._

They haven’t been back to New York in over a year, or the east coast at all, actually. Marcus and the kids came to Seattle for Thanksgiving, Donna’s parents at Christmas, and Louis, Sheila, and Lucy came out in the spring. But life has been busy in the best way between their child and careers so there hasn’t been enough time to go back. Not as a family, anyway. Plus, the last trip that they took to Chicago to see Jessica was enough to know that flying with a toddler was out of the question unless deemed absolutely necessary.

This trip qualified as necessary and thankfully, he slept most of the flight; content to be Daddy’s lapmate for what would likely be one of his last two flights under two so it had all gone a lot better than anticipated.

“Where’s the little Paulsen-Specter tonight?” Jessica asks, coming to stand next to Donna just after Katrina leaves her side. They watch out at the gala ensuing before them — past and present employees and clients of the firm coming together for one night in support of a worthy cause.

“With my mother,” she replies, sipping on her glass of champagne.

Nodding, the other woman smiles, “You itching to get back to him yet?”

“Not as much as Harvey is,” Donna laughs. Harvey is across the room with Mike, Alex, and Samantha but the look that he gives her every few minutes is enough to know that he would rather be anywhere but here. Particularly, he would rather be at home reading bedtime stories to the little guy they left in Batman pajamas an hour earlier.

“He’s a good father,” Jessica replies knowingly. For a man that spent so many years as closed off as he once was, Harvey wears his love for Donna and their son like a badge of honor. It’s obvious.

“The best. Pretty amazing husband, too.”

“I’m glad.”

Jessica excuses herself a moment later, making her way toward her former co-partners and that’s when Donna spots a familiar face walking into the ballroom.

Thomas Kessler.

He is another ex that she hasn’t seen in years, not since he left her old office with the intention of re-signing with Harvey before dropping the firm. Donna doesn’t regret the way that she and Harvey got together and she never will but a part of her still feels guilty that Thomas took the brunt of that impact in a sense. The fact that he was never going to be enough for her — that he was never going to be _it_ for her must have felt like a slap in the face despite the short term of their relationship.

Honestly, she hasn’t thought about it much, as selfish as that may seem. The last time that she really had was the night that she told Faye why he couldn’t be their client anymore, but seeing him again makes her think. Not in terms of regret, but that she hopes he’s happy, because really, she is _so_ happy.

“Thomas,” Donna says with a genuine smile when their paths cross at the bar. He finishes ordering a drink for himself and his date before redirecting his attention toward her.

He smiles back, “Donna.”

“How have you been?”

“Good,” Thomas replies, “Good, I’m good.”

“Things are alright with the company?”

“We’ve just expanded again.”

“Wow, I’m impressed.”

“Yeah, it’s been great. So, how are you? Where’s…”

Whether Thomas knows anything about her life over the last few years or not, she isn’t sure but she knows that he is aware that she and Harvey gave their relationship a real shot at some point. The ring on the hand that holds her glass probably gives enough away.

“He’s talking with Jessica Pearson and Louis Litt,” Donna’s eyes meet Harvey’s through the crowd and he winks back.

“Ah. Are the two of you married? Engaged?”

He _did_ notice the ring.

“Married.”

“Congratulations,” Thomas replies and she can tell that he means it. “I’m engaged myself.”

“Oh, really? Anyone I know?”

He laughs, “Probably not. She an interior designer—“

“Perfect for you.”

“She is, and she has a six year old son. It’s been great. We have a good thing going.”

“I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you. What about you and Harvey? Kids part of the plan? Although I don’t know if I could see you—“

Donna chuckles, “It happened pretty quickly but we actually already have a little one. He’ll be two in about two months.”

“Really?”

She pulls out her phone and shows her lockscreen to Thomas. It’s a selfie that Harvey sent her two weeks earlier; a little blonde boy with his same short cropped hair and grin, arms clinging to his father’s neck. _He says, ‘Mama’s handsome men’_ , the text had read, inevitably cutting her day out with Rachel short.

They talk for a few more minutes; carrying on a conversation about life, work, and their kids. Thomas asks if she and Harvey will have more and Donna confirms that _maybe_ — when the time is right, and their casual talk begins to fade after that, all said and done. Harvey approaches as it draws to a close, exchanging pleasantries with the other man before whispering a subtle, “I wanna dance with my wife. What do you say?” into Donna’s ear.

“I say yes,” she flirts back. “But after this, you, Mister, are taking me home to my kid.”

“You miss him?”

She nods.

“Me too,” Harvey grins as he takes her hand.

;

They call it an early night after another hour, more anxious to get back to their little one than either realize. By eleven, they’re back in the condo with a child asleep, outstretched across Harvey’s torso with one hand holding onto his mother.

“What are you thinking about?” Harvey asks, fingers brushing the hair out of her face as Donna rests her head against his shoulder.

She sighs contently, “You. _Us_. That I’m really grateful for that night.”

_That night_ has become a reference the same way that _the other time_ had; it means the night that he came to her. The night that he showed up on her doorstep with his heart on his sleeve and forever in his eyes. It means the biggest step, the leap of faith that got them to _this_.

“Me too.”

Donna traces their son’s cheek, having somewhat of an epiphany herself, “Look at him… I think we should make another one.”

“You wanna proposition me for that when you aren’t still a little tipsy?” 

“Oh, trust me, I will. The answer isn’t going to change.”

“You want my babies,” Harvey says smugly.

“I think,” Donna shifts enough to look at him, pressing her lips to his, “You already know that.”

She has no regrets. _This_ is exactly where she wants to be.

—

_+one._

As it turns out, “similar circles” tend to bleed into the _same_ circle.

A former Harvard classmate’s wedding calls for a short two day trip to the east coast — one that Donna insists she doesn’t _mind_ skipping if Harvey isn’t in the mood to lug a three year old up to Massachusetts for what barely constitutes as a weekend, but he makes his own case, stating that he _wants_ them there. It’s the first alumni get together that he actually plans on attending in years and though Harvey isn’t the type to flaunt all that he has like it’s a prize to be won, maybe a little part of him is excited to share it with the person that he was before they met. Donna has to admit, she’s excited about that, too. 

“I’m going to run to the restroom, I’ll be back in a minute.”

A concerned look flashes across Harvey’s face, “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Donna chuckles as she steps out of his embrace. She gives him _that_ look that says he’s an idiot but she loves him. So much.

The wedding had been earlier in the afternoon but afterward, a handful of his law school friends decided to meet up at a bar slightly off campus. It was an old hangout during their college days, one that he frequented often — slacking off when he should have been studying, meeting up with friends or flings. Looking around the place now feels surreal. The screw up twenty-something from a broken home and dysfunctional family with issues that he blamed himself for sat in this very spot all too often but now… now, that kid has nothing on the man that he is today. He’s a man that spent half the day and through the evening wrapped around the one person that has always loved him for all of his faults and they have a growing family of their own. Harvey is better for it, better for them.

“Specter, why haven’t we seen any pictures of that kid of yours yet?” a former classmate inquires, moving toward him. The man is slightly buzzed, maybe even drunk but that doesn’t stop Harvey from pulling his phone from the pocket of his pants. He scrolls through the endless pictures of their three year old, their three year old with Donna, and their three year old with him, trying to find the perfect one. Settling for a photograph from their hotel room that morning — wide eyes and even wider grin, giggling next to him from Donna’s sleeping embrace, Harvey passes the phone around. 

There are “ooh”s and “aww”s and “how cute”s thrown around the table as people look at the picture, the sentiments very much the same until _she_ speaks up.

“I can’t get over it. That is… Baby Harvey,” Scottie laughs once the phone ends up in her hands. “I used to say that Mike Ross was baby you but your offspring? He’s you with Donna’s nose.”

Harvey smiles. He’s heard that ten times a day for the past three years but only he knows that their son is more like his mother than anyone would believe. He’s the perfect mix of Paulsen and Specter but sometimes that little boy looks up at him and all that Harvey can see is _Donna._

“You said that the last time we ran into you, Scottie,” Donna says, amusement in her tone. She slides back into her spot between her husband’s legs where he sits on a bar-stool.

“I know,” she laughs and hands the phone back to Harvey, “But I swear, he’s Harvey’s clone.”

“He is,” Donna agrees, glancing back at the man holding her close.

Scottie once said that she would stay away from him and she _has_ , but Donna never actually held her to that. They work in the same profession and random run-ins on the street during their New York City travels or at Harvard events were out of their control and truthfully, there isn’t any animosity between her and Scottie. Not from Harvey either. 

Running into her doesn’t hold the same awkwardness that seeing other exes does. Maybe it’s because, in the end, any issues between Donna and Scottie involved Donna’s need to protect Harvey, his trust, and his happiness, whether that was with her or not. And Harvey… Harvey grew to be the man that he believed was good enough for Donna, to fit her, to love her with everything that he is. There was never any competition there. It was always them.

Scottie once told them that she wanted this for the two of them — to figure their relationship out, to see what was right in front of them (specifically for Harvey to see that), whatever that entailed. Marriage, babies. It’s a life that suits him nonetheless, more so than anything else.

“The next one is going to look like you,” Harvey replies. The tiny slip of his fingers against her stomach indicates a secret that only they know.

Scottie looks at the couple in surprise, “Next one, huh?”

Eyes meeting Harvey’s with a bite down on her lip, Donna rolls them in amusement. “I’ll be eleven weeks tomorrow,” she admits, watching the grin spread across her husband’s face.

“ _No_ ,” another classmate replies in awe, “This calls for another round on us. Specter’s gonna be a daddy again!”

Laughing at the rambunctious cheer from their table, Scottie motions to Donna, “Water for mom, I’m assuming?”

“Yes, please.”

“And for dad,” Harvey adds, catching the curious look on his ex’s face, “What? Solidarity.”

“Really, Harvey?”

“He lasted six weeks the first time,” Donna jokes.

“ _That_ was on you,” he explains, “The smell makes her sick during the first trimester but she craves the taste as soon as she hits the second.”

“Yeah, that is too much information,” Scottie replies, laughing as she heads off to the bar to order for everyone.

Harvey makes a move to turn Donna to face him and when their eyes meet, his are soft in that way that he gets — like he’s falling in love with her all over again. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Convincing me to come here tonight. For coming with me,” he shrugs, “For everything, Donna.”

Donna presses her lips to his quickly, in a simple, chaste kiss that somehow holds magnitudes. When she pulls away, using her thumb to wipe the lipstick off of his bottom lip, she smiles with a hint of something in her gaze. 

“What?”

”Just thinking… trying to picture you back then.”

“We met a few years after that,” Harvey says.

“I _know_ ,” Donna deadpans, “But—“

“Back then, I never would have believed any of this.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“Harvey.” It’s a warning, though not a serious one.

“You know that I never saw myself in a relationship, let alone with a wife or a kid,” he admits, “Because of my parents. Because of what my mom did. If someone had told me back then that I would meet someone that I could trust, someone that would have faith in me, I would have laughed in their face.”

“But?”

“But then I met you. It took a long time to get here, but Donna, you changed it all.”

She did. She did for him what he did for her.

Every ex-partner, every life changing or life shattering event, and every moment that they’ve shared whether that be behind glass walls, in front of their friends, in the privacy of their own home, or under dim lights in a crowded bar built them up, tore them apart, and lead them to this. Each other. In the midst of revelations, unfortunate encounters, and intentional gatherings, they’re both _exactly_ where they belong.

—

_…that night, everything finally made sense. I’m finally where I'm supposed to be._

_We both are._

_-_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and criticism are always welcome.
> 
> I hope everyone is staying safe out there — PLEASE do not go out unless you absolutely have to, practice self-isolation, and take this pandemic seriously. Show your respect to everyone on the front lines, from customer service workers to medical staff and just people in general. Also, this should go without saying — don’t be f****ing racist!
> 
> There will probably be more quarantine fics to come, and again, thank you so much for reading.


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